Cobblepot family values
by Adara's Rose
Summary: That cracky Addams Family AU with Edward as Gomez, Oswald as Morticia, and Bruce as their adopted son, that you never knew you wanted.
1. Good morning, mein schatz

xA morning's interlude between husbands Edward Nygma and Oswald Cobblepot.

* * *

It was one of those dreadfully sunny summer mornings, and most of Gotham was staring blearily into its morning coffee and cursing everyone and everything. At the Cobblepot mansion, however, the morning was mostly still.

Edward Nygma stood in front of the large vanity mirror in the master bedroom, adjusting his tie. He made a mental note to buy a dozen new ones - his darling husband had been inventive lately. He pulled the knot taught, shivering in pleasure at the restriction of his breathing and the immediate soreness from the bruise encircling his neck. He loved the way the bruise formed a deep purple choker, with clearly defined lines of his husband's beautifully slim fingers. The shape never failed to remind him of how much his darling bird loved him. If he squinted, he fancied he could see Oswald's fingerprints.

Oswald Cobblepot (they had decided to keep their own surnames after the wedding) had not yet bothered to get out of bed. Instead, he half-sat reclining against the headboard, admiring his husband's elegant form. Edward really was stunning in his charcoal grey wool suit; it made him look like an enforcer stepped out of one of those old mafia films. His breath grew short.

However, Edward was still completely focused on his reflection, and that just would not do. Oswald adjusted the silk sheets that barely covered his nude form, ensuring that they draped just so. He was covered in wonderfully sore bruises and stinging burns after the night's activities, but still…

"Edward" he called in a soft, sweet voice he knew never failed to catch his husband's attention.

"Hmm?" the man in question stopped digging in the top drawer for his favourite cufflinks, the ones with little gold penguins.

"Last night… I don't know what came over you." Oswald said in as reproachful tone he could muster. "You were primal, brutal. You _frightened_ me."

Edward froze, his heart stuttering in despair. He could terrorize all of Gotham once a day and twice on Fridays, but his husband? He'd rather spend the day working on his tan. He turned to the bed, ready to throw himself at Oswald's feet and beg forgiveness. That's when he saw the devious little smirk.

"Do it again, _Liebling_." Oswald purred.

Edward was across the room faster than Oswald knew him capable of, pressing passionate kisses up his arm, making sure to bite each bruise.

"My darling" Edward moaned feverishly, "that was _german_."

They both ended up late for work.


	2. Hair like Silver

Bruce has a crush on a very pretty girl in school, so his doting fathers invite her and her uncle over for tea. It... goes as well as can be expected.

* * *

"Is the soup not to your liking, Master Nygma?" Alfred asked at dinner one night. His voice was carefully neutral, but Edward still looked chagrined. Alfred was the butler, cook, grave robber, and all around helper in the house. A cranky Alfred meant everyone else had to contend with take out and misery.

"It just lacks the usual… oomph, so to speak." he stirred it unhappily.

"Oh, I am so sorry, darling" Oswald hurriedly said as he withdrew a small green bottle from his pocket. He leaned over the table and poured the equally bright green liquid into the Riddler's bowl. Edward stirred, the tried the soup again. He lit up.

"Delicious!" He cried happily, the proceeded to devour it.

Oswald smiled fondly at him, then turned to his adopted son who had not said much during the entire meal.

"Bruce, dear, whatever is the matter?"

Bruce Cobblepot, born Wayne, looked up. He was pouting, but then he was always pouting. Having just turned fourteen, he was the epitome of teenage angst. His fathers could not have been prouder.

"There's this girl at school" he admitted reluctantly. "I'm not sure how to treat her."

Edward and Oswald exchanged looks. How precious, Bruce's first crush.

"Well, why don't you invite her over for dinner?" Edward asked in an encouraging voice, then started licking his soup bowl.

Bruce frowned. "I don't know if she'd like that."

"What is her name?" Oswald asked, "maybe I know her parents."

"Silver St Cloud."

"Never heard of her. Is she pretty?"

"Very pretty. Her hair looks like it is actually silver." Bruce seemed enraptured at the mere thought.

"As long as you don't try to cut it off" Oswald warned him. "Remember last time."

"Selina didn't mind!" Bruce replied hotly.

"Selina isn't like most girls, Bruce." Edward pointed out unnecessarily. "And she still screamed down the house."

"We can have her parents over." Oswald suggested, cheerily, wanting to prevent the argument before it got started. He loved watching them get into it, but not at dinner. "Silver's, that is."

"She lives with her uncle" Bruce muttered, but finally started eating his soup.

""Well, lets have him over for tea, then." Oswald shot a warning look at the butler who seemed very interested in the proposal. "As a _guest_ , Alfred."

"Yes, sir." The man muttered, back to his usual mulish behaviour. He glared down at his soup. "But if either of them upsets master Bruce-"

"Then we will discuss Sunday menu choices _after the fact_ , not before. We don't want the GCPD visiting again, it's only been a week since the last time."

"Very good, Master Edward."

* * *

"I hear you have a girl you like, Bruce" Edward's sister Barbara said as she brushed bits of plaster from her blond hair. Tabitha, her wife, ignored them both and instead focused on reloading the explosives. They were in the east wing, which was mostly Tabitha's and Barbara's domain and usually required major constructive work about once a month.

"Yeah, her name is Silver." Bruce replied as he watched his aunt work. "She's coming over for dinner tonight with her uncle."

"How wonderful." Barbara's smile was shark-like. It immediately put him at ease.

"Pass me the fuse?" Tabitha demanded without looking up at them. Bruce obeyed, wondering if he ought to change out of his school uniform before things proceeded any further. Alfred hated when he got it covered with gunpowder.

"You better go get ready" Barbara said, "you want to make a good impression."

"Aw, come on! Can't I watch as you detonate first?"

The women exchanged a look, hen turned indulgent smiles on the youth.

"Would you like to press the button?" Barbara offered him the detonator.

"Damn right I would!"

* * *

Silver St Cloud turned out to be a beautiful girl with golden hair and pale skin, wearing a clearly expensive dress as she and her uncle were welcomed into the mayoral residence that night. They seemed a bit disconcerted at the glassy way Alfred looked at them, and Oswald had to restrain himself from asking if they'd never seen a reanimated man before. Some people were such snobs. Besides, Alfred was the perfect servant - he never slept, didn't need to eat, and only required the occasional organ or limb replacement. The latter, uncle Hugo always took care of in the basement so they didn't even have to call anyone in.

"Welcome!" Oswald cried, excited to have guests. For some reason, people rarely visited their home and he was simply dying for them to enjoy themselves and want to stay. At least until he could figure out how to serve them.

"Mayor" Silver's uncle said with a smarmy smile, shaking Oswald's hand. "Theo Galavan. Pleasure is all mine."

"Yes, it is!" the penguin beamed. "Do come in and have tea! Silver, Bruce is just upstairs. Follow the screaming."

Silver looked momentarily unsettled, but composed herself quickly and vanished upstairs in a cloud of perfume.

"This way, Mr Galavant."

* * *

Oswald led their guest into the sitting room, sighing deeply as he saw the body hanging from the chandelier. Galavan flinched in shock at what appeared to be a dead man, but surprisingly said nothing.

"Edward, darling" Oswald chided, "get down from there - we have guests."

The man hanging in a noose from the chandelier sighed deeply.

"I'd just gotten the momentum right" he complained, but obeyed. He kept the noose around his neck, though.

"Silver's uncle, right?" he said as he shook the stunned Mr Galavan's hand, looking at him sharply through his glasses.

"That's right. I'm… Galavan. Theo Galavan."

"Galavan? Any relation to Tabitha?" Edward looked at him very intently.

"You… know my sister?" To be honest, he hadn't talked to Tabitha since she married some crazy woman five years ago.

"Of course! She lives here with my sister. But I'm afraid they're not in - there's an execution and they managed to get front row seats. They'll probably be home late."

"I… see." Galavan stammered as he sank down on one of the very comfy sofas.

Just then, the butler brought in the tea tray and Galavan immediately had to look away to keep from staring at the lines of stitching around the man's left hand. Edward saw where he was carefully not looking, and addressed the man.

"How's the hand, Alfred?"

"Bit unreliable still, sir. But it's getting there. Still getting used to the fingers."

"Oh, I am so glad. I was worried about the size." Galavan felt sick when he realised that none of the men were commenting on the fact that the hand clearly had belonged to a man with darker skin than the butler. Or the fact that it was _stitched on_. These people were mad. And they ruled Gotham.

His own hands shaking, Galavan accepted a cup of tea from the dark-skinned hand that Alfred held out towards him.

"T-Thank you" he managed and hated himself for showing how unrattled he was.

The two men in front of him smiled benevolently. It made his blood run cold.

He was just about to say some sort of generic thing about hospitality, when a gut wrenching scream echoed through the house. There was a thundering of footsteps down the stairs, and then he heard his niece screeching "uncle Theo!" from the hall. Galavan threw his teacup and sprinted towards the noise, Edward and Oswald hot on his heels.

* * *

Silver stood in the hall, her eyes wild. But it was her head that drew the attention of everyone else. Blood was pouring down the side of her face from a terrible head wound, and a part of her hair was missing.

"He tried to scalp me!" She screamed hysterically. "Said he wanted to know if my hair was really silver!"

Galavan turned on his heel, glaring daggers at his hosts.

"You people are fucking mad!" he snarled, "Silver we are leaving. NOW! You can expect to hear from our lawyers."

Edward adjusted his glasses. It was a highly unsettling sight.

"Are you sure you don't want any tea?" Oswald asked, clearly unhappy.

"We want nothing but a bloody ambulance!" Galavan yelled and ushered his hysterical niece out the door.

Once the door had slammed shut behind their guests, Oswald turned to Edward with trembling lips. "Bruce is going to be so upset" he lamented.

"We'll just have to comfort him." Edward said, pulling his husband into his arms and rocking him slowly.

"Fathers?" Bruce called from the landing, "where is Silver?"

"She had to go home, Bruce. I don't think you'll be seeing her anymore" Edward replied regretfully.

Bruce cocked his head to the side, mulling it over. Then he shrugged.

"Oh well. Her hair wasn't real silver anyway. Can I have Selina over tomorrow?"

"Of course you can, son. That's an excellent idea."


	3. A special delivery

_Bruce is eagerly awaiting the postman. It is a very special day._

* * *

Bruce Cobblepot was lounging on the marble steps leading up to the mansion he called home, looking decidedly bored.

"Master Bruce, you are going to catch the sun" Alfred admonished him gently, holding a large black umbrella over the youth's head to make sure not a single ray fell on the boy's sickly white skin.

"Not if you hold still, Alfred. Besides, I expect the postman in the next few minutes."

"Are you sure this is a good idea, master Bruce?"

"Well, when father heard what he said about him and dad he wanted to turn him into a modern day Saint Bartholomew, so this is much kinder."

The butler made a noise of disapproval.

"Can't you watch from safely inside, master Bruce?" He complained. They'd just had UV-safe windows installed in the entire mansion.

"No, Alfred, I can't." Bruce replied firmly, and that was the end of the discussion.

Bruce was just considering going back inside and have Alfred make him some hemlock tea, when he saw the postman slowly open the gate. He was carrying a large parcel, contents which Bruce had ordered for this specific reason. The rat-like little man looked decidedly spooked as he slowly made his way up the neatly raked driveway, as if waiting for a rabid dog to come running and bite him in the leg. To be fair, Edward did make sure all his dogs were infected with rabies the moment he bought them, but today they were all in the kennel. Bruce had made a bet with his father how many of them would have been killed by their fellows once he got home.

Bruce sat up, demonic glee twisting his elegant features.

"At last" he breathed.

The postman had spotted Bruce now, and seeing the look on the youth's face he stopped, trembling. But he had a job to do, and he was going to do it. So he kept walking, hands trembling with dread.

"Closer" Bruce breathed, eyes gleaming.

The postman took a few more steps, and then he stepped on the specific piece of road that Bruce had waited for. There was a creak. A crack. And then the cleverly hidden trapdoor which had taken bruce all week opened, sending the screaming man falling into a deep, dark pit.

Bruce stood up, beaming, and walked over to the opening. He looked down at the dazed, confused man where he lay on the bottom of the shallow pit. Then he picked up the cardboard box that he had thrown to the side.

"I don't like people who talk ill of my parents" Bruce said conversationally, "not even the still breathing ones."

He opened the package slowly, then tipped it over and let the contents fall into the pit, landing on top of the postman.

"I recommend you lay very still" he said sagely, "scorpions are skittish creatures and I don't want you frightening them."

Then he closed the trapdoor and secured it with the padlock he'd kept in his pocket for just this purpose. He could hear muffled screams below.

"Now will you please go back inside, Master Bruce?" Alfred begged, and Bruce nodded.

"Yes. Our task here is done. Let's hope he learns before he dies."

"Very good, master Bruce."


	4. The man who has everything

_Oswald's birthday is coming up. This is a problem._

* * *

It was less than a week to go to Edward's favourite day of the year, and this day he was really dreading it. Oswalds birthday!

He had no idea what to give him. What do you give a man who has everything?

Maybe a trip to some exotic location. No, that had been last year. A series of grisly murders, then, culminating in a bloodbath on the night in question? No, that had been the year before that…

"What is greater than God, more evil than the devil, the poor have it, the rich need it, and if you eat it, you'll die?" he groaned into his morning nettle-tea. Oswald gave him a worried look.

"Ed, my love, please tell me what's wrong" he begged.

"Your birthday" was the morose reply.

"I thought all the arrangements were made?" Oswald frowned, "I've even arranged for that cake you like."

Edward looked up, staring adoringly at his husband.

"My own, my very own" he cooed, making Bruce roll his eyes at them both.

"Father's in a snit because he can't find a good birthday present" the youth said drolly, sprinkling some more arsenic over his porridge. He looked at it consideringly, then reached for the Juniper jelly.

"But I don't want anything for my birthday" Oswald said, honestly bewildered.

Edward gave in to the urge to stab himself repeatedly with the butter knife in pure frustration.

* * *

The idea whacked Edward over the head later that day, during the press conference for the new bill of education that Oswald had been working much too hard for lately. In specific, it happened when a little girl in a pink dress ran up to hand the mayor a bunch of flowers and Edward managed to catch the momentary look of longing on his own darling's face. He didn't like that look at all. It hadn't been him who put it there. But it gave him an idea.

Later that afternoon, when Oswald was ensconced in some villainous plot or other down at his sister's club, Edward jumped into the car and headed to the nearest orphanage. He was going to get Oswald a little girl of his own.


	5. Fifth time lucky

_Four presumptive daughters failed to make it past lunch. The fifth one, however, is showing a lot of promise._

* * *

"Are you dead?" The fifth attempt at a new daughter asked Alfred, who looked decidedly unimpressed. The last four hadn't gotten past lunch, and he wasn't in the mood to clean up blood from the kitchen floor again today. Plus, Master Edward still hadn't _had_ lunch.

"Yes" he told the girl, who had very red hair. She looked at him thoughtfully for several moments.

"Does your head come off?" She wanted to know, looking at the stitches around his neck.

"Yes but I'd rather not remove it, such a hassle to get back on" he explained.

"That's alright. I can sew." She had spunk, this one. He liked her.

"Then we can try after lunch." he promised and escorted her and a beaming Edward into the kitchen.

The girl spooned jam over her pancakes, pausing only momentarily at Edward's "it's poisonous".

"I've had worse" was her only comment, and Edward watched in wonderment as she ate her fill. This was getting better and better.

"I think we'll keep you." he said eventually, beaming. "Just need to do something about that hair. And the clothes."

"First I need to stitch your butler's head back on." Edward raised an eyebrow.

"It hasn't been removed."

The girl smiled. It was almost as devilish as Oswald's. "Not yet."

* * *

Bruce circled the presumptive new sister slowly, warily. She looked back, calm.

"I like your hair" he said, feeling for the razor in his pocket.

"Thank you" she said, "Mr Nygma says it's just the right colour."

"I've never seen that shade of red before." Bruce said as he brandished the razor. "It'll be a great addition to my collection!"

With that, he attacked. But she was quick; diving out of the way and delivering a punch to his chest at the same time.

He laughed; finally a girl like Selina. He chased his possibly new sister into the hallway, towards the stairs. He wondered how many bones she'd break when she fell.

Bruce managed to catch up to the girl on the landing, and gripped that beautiful red hair hard, forcing her head back. She yeleld in pain, making him laugh even more.

"I only want a little!" He told her reassuringly. The girl stamped on his foot then followed it with an elbow to the gut. Before Bruce knew it, he was tumbling headfirst down the rickety stairs.

There was a stunned silence.

* * *

Bruce limped over to his display case on his sprained ankle, and added the lock of vibrant red hair to it's rightful place. Next to it, he placed a little post-it, which was there only until he got a proper plaque. He admired the makeshift label; _"Ivy Cobblepot, age 12. Little sister"._

"So can you give me that tour now?" Ivy asked from the doorway and bruce turned to face her. She was dressed in an old-fashioned emerald green gown, which made her pale skin seem almost translucent. It made him want to peel it off to see what she looked like beneath.

"Sure, just need to get you a suitable weapon." he agreed. She held up his razor.

"This doesn't work?" He grinned widely at her, realising that father had found the _perfect_ girl.

"Only on me!" he laughed as he pulled a rifle down from the wall.

"Come on, you'll love the basement!"

* * *

"Edward! We need to get going, I can't be late for my own party!" Oswald felt a bit irate, as he leaned heavily on his cane. If they left now, they'd only be fashionably late. He adjusted his collar, examining himself in the ancient mirror. Even with the twisted face and bloodstained clothes that always showed in the cursed glass, he looked fantastic.

"Sorry love, I was just putting the finishing touches on your present." Edward came down the stairs slowly, candlelight glinting off his glasses. He looked stunning in his dark forest green suit. Bruce came after him, smirking like he had a fresh corpse waiting in the lab.

"Can I make the call now, father?" he asked eagerly. Edward smiled back, indulgently.

"Go ahead, son."

"What is going on?" Oswald looked at them both, suspicious.

"Your present, dad! You're going to love it!"

"Alright then, show me."

Bruce giggled, not that he'd ever admit to giggling. Then he turned to the upstairs landing, and called;

"Come on out, little sister!"

"We don't have any children apart from Bruce" oswald frowned, "do we?"

"We do now. Her."

Oswald looked up. Saw the girl. She was tiny, with long red hair and an elegant green dress. She looked like the perfect little lady, if you ignored the malicious shine in her eyes.

"Oh Ed" Oswald choked out, throat closing with terror and joy. "Who is she?"

"Her name is Ivy."

Oswald's eyes filled with tears as the girl -Ivy- slowly descended the stairs.

"Oh," he breathed as he pressed his face to Edward's chest. "Sie ist _wunderbar."_

* * *

 _Sie is wunderbar = she is wonderful_


End file.
